c'est la vie
by Laura013
Summary: We're all damaged, in our own way. At least, that what Katherine Houghton Beckett believed. Well, she believed it 8 years ago. Castle/Beckett one-shot COMPLETE


**Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series or any of the characters**

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"**We're all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness—and call it love—true love."**

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_Hi, this is Richard Castle, sorry I am unable to take your call, please leave a message at the tone. _

Kate dropped the phone. She didn't know why she still paid the phone bill on her husband's phone, or why she still even bothered to call it every night. It wasn't like he was ever going to use the phone again. All it did was ring on the pillow across from her.

She kept the loft in the exact same state it was that night 8 years ago. She used the same white linen sheets (although she did wash them once a week), made the same breakfast in the same kitchen with the same dishes, she even wore the same lingerie, even though there was no one there to impress.

She lived alone in the Castle loft, after Alexis moved out and Martha died of liver failure. It had been 3 years since Kate had shared a home with someone, and while her fingers itched for company, she couldn't bear to leave the loft.

We're all damaged, in our own way. At least, that what Katherine Houghton Beckett believed. Well, she believed it 8 years ago.

"Castle…" she whispered, her wheezing voice almost giving out like a table holding too much weight.

Of course, there was no response. There never was anymore.

"_We're all damaged, in our own way. And that's okay, as long as you find someone who makes you believe it is. Someone that can convince you that the baggage you carry isn't a burden, it's called your personality. Richard Castle taught me that."_

And suddenly sadness overwhelmed Kate Beckett, the stone-faced, seemingly emotionless detective who never let feelings rule her heart, at least, not for the last 8 years.

Her fingers twisted around the chain of her neck. There were now four rings, on the chain. One was her mother's engagement ring, which her mother had given to her in her will.

The second was Royce's silver ring. She didn't know the significance of the ring to him, but he'd always had it on when they worked together, so when his case was finished, she stole it from evidence.

The third was the promise ring that Javier Esposito had given to her when he poured his heart out to her 15 years earlier, back when they were still dating. Even though she didn't like him like that, he was like her older brother, but it was a part of her now.

And the final was the wedding band that was supposed to be Castle's. Her engagement ring and wedding band still lay on her fourth finger, but Castle's went around her neck, with the other forgotten rings of her past. The weight of the necklace only grew with the weight of her heart.

And she remembered that night 8 years ago, that night that _still_ gave her nightmares. It was the blur of her eyes, the rush of blood to her temples, and the worst thing was the colors. The colors were what scared her the most. First it was the white of her dress. Then it was the black of Castle's suit. And most chillingly, was the red that splattered all over her. _Was that what Castle felt like? When I was shot?_ That thought only made Kate feel guiltier.

She had to run home and peel of the white wedding dress, and exchange it for the black one. The same black one she wore to her mother's funeral. She never wore that black dress again. That dress was reserved for the two people that she loved the most. Her mom and her husband. _Not fiancée, husband._ Sure, they were never legally married. But Kate didn't mind. He was always her husband in her heart.

The irony of the whole situation was that that was the exact moment that Kate Beckett had dared to dream. The exact moment that she thought she had really found someone who could make her happy, he was shot in the head by a sniper.

And now that all of the lies of happiness had left her life, it was the fanciful truth that remains.


End file.
